


Survival of the Fittest

by auri_mynonys



Series: The Price of Youth: An Abrasax Eternity [2]
Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Violence, F/M, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Power Imbalance, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3377267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auri_mynonys/pseuds/auri_mynonys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Jupiter Jones has been living life on the run, smuggling off-brand RegenX-E to needy refugees and the poor while trying to say under the Abrasax radar. But when she is presumed dead, and none of her family can be found, the Earth is put up for auction - and only Jupiter can save it from being harvested... with some help from the most sane Abrasax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival of the Fittest

**Author's Note:**

> Man, this was really fun to write. Developing what I thought Jupiter would wind up doing post-escape and playing with the expanded world of Jupiter Ascending was delightful.
> 
> I was reading up on some meta thoughts about RegenX-E and realized some version of it is used for almost everything medical in this world - I think Caine gets some of it when he comes in from space, and Stinger wants it for Kiza because she's sick. So I wanted to play with that moral ambiguity a bit - it's horrible that it comes from people, but yet it's a miracle cure-all and extremely difficult to live without.
> 
> The patchwork skin is also mostly a personal headcanon. That "heal your skin in a can" would only work on patches of skin, not like a full RegenX-E bath, so I figured people who got banged up a lot would wind up with weird patches of really youthful skin while the rest of the body went to hell.
> 
> TW for some signs of violence/abuse towards the end of the fic. The Abrasax family is not full of nice people and Balem is not a stable person.

The first time that she sees Balem again, it’s twenty years later. He has gray in his hair and crows’ feet around his eyes, a coldness in the way he sets his mouth. It surprises her how much more handsome he looks that way - how much seeing him doesn’t fill her with hate. Her heart only jumps painfully, memories both her own and not her own fighting their way to the surface.

 

“He looks tired,” she says, to no one in particular; and no one bothers to answer.

 

Jupe has the occasional strand of silver in her hair and a line between her brows from frowning so much. She’s covered not in scars, but in a patchwork of smooth, RegenX-E-healed flesh and rough, cracked, older skin that hasn’t seen RegenX-E since the bath with Balem. She’s wearing torn up leather pants and a long, shapeless coat, a masking screen wrapped around her face to hide her identity - the only face anyone here knows her by.

 

The moment Balem appears onscreen, Jupe runs her hand unconsciously over a smooth spot of skin upon her arm, torn up and recently re-healed with RegenX-E. She’s learned in her time on the run that everyone uses RegenX-E in some form - even people she respects and admires. Even Stinger. Even Captain Tsing. It heals all wounds and cures all diseases, and despite her moral objections, even Jupiter has grown to be dependent on it.

 

Jupe lowers her glass, staring at Balem Abrasax a little too hard. There’s something wild and unhinged in his cold expression, more so than she remembers. He steeples his fingers in front of him and taps the tips together, over and over, as if he’s itching to run or scream. In all other respects he is still, standing in a special patrons’ cube at some kind of auction.

 

Jupe’s frown deepens. She lifts her glass and takes a drink. “What are they auctioning?” she asks the guy next to her - another smuggler. He runs knock-off RegenX-E for profit, most of it clone-based and very dangerous. Jupiter runs stolen RegenX-E for refugee houses that can’t afford it otherwise.

 

“One of the big planets,” the smuggler says, downing the rest of his drink. “Earth, I think it’s called. Balem Abrasax lost it to his mum’s recurrence, but I guess she’s been missing awhile - long enough to be presumed dead, anyway. They’re auctioning it off now to the highest bidder.”

 

Jupiter’s heart stops.

 

Her glass clatters to the floor with a loud and painful crash. The smuggler jumps, raising both eyebrows. “Steady there,” he says. “Not much of a drinker, are you?”

 

Jupiter’s hands are shaking, her eyes wide and glassy.“Is there any way to revert ownership back to the original owner?” she says, before she can think better of it. “There must be some kind of legal loophole - ”

 

“Once it’s been auctioned at a sale? Nah,” the smuggler says, bending to scoop up her cup. “At that point it legally belongs to someone else. Most of the money from the auction will be given over to the original owner so they can start again, but as far as sold property is concerned they’re kind of fucked.” His eyes narrow. “Why? You know something about the Abrasax recurrence?”

 

Jupe shakes her head, digging for some money and throwing it onto the bar. “If anybody asks, I wasn’t here,” she says, handing him a small stack of C’s.

 

“Sure,” he says, counting the stack with a grin. “Whatever you say.”

 

* * *

 

Once she leaves the bar, Jupiter runs, hauling ass through the crowded streets to a burner com shop. Once there, she whips out her gun and strides to the head of the line, knocking aside about thirty other grumbling patrons as she goes. “Give me an earpiece,” she barks, slamming down her money. She’s losing her most recent earnings fast, but in the face of what’s about to happen, it doesn’t much matter.

 

“Alright, alright, calm down,” the operator says, lifting her hands. She digs in the back for the requested article, turning back when she has it in her hand. “Here you go. There’s an open terminal by - ”

 

Jupe waves her off and runs out of the line, holding the small metal circle in her hand. She clicks it into place behind her ear, wincing as it burrows under her skin and into her skull. Something behind her eye suddenly begins to sting, and then a small, flashing green light appears at the corner of her vision. “Call Kalique Abrasax,” she commands, slipping into a private terminal. She slams the door shut, and all noise from the outside shop instantly dissipates.

 

“Redirecting call to Sir Maledictes. Whom shall I say is calling?” says a pleasant, lilting voice in her ear.

 

“Jupiter Jones,” Jupe says. “Tell him it’s Jupiter Jones. And make sure he knows it’s urgent.”

 

“Transferring call,” the voice says, and then a pleasant song begins to play.

 

Jupiter sits, deactivating her mask and drumming her fingers on the sole table in the little room, black paint chipping away under her fingernails. The minutes tick by, and Jupiter waits, her foot soon joining the tapping chorus.

 

You wouldn’t have had to wait this long if you’d called Chicanery, she thinks, then immediately regrets it. Sure, Chicanery would have answered straightaway - but that would drag her back to Balem, and that’s about the last thing she wants.

 

At least, she thinks it is.

 

Thankfully, the hold music is abruptly terminated before Jupiter’s brain can pursue that line of thought. The room seems to fall away, a pixelated version of Kalique’s home building itself around Jupiter. Jupe rises, knowing how stupid it will look if she continues to sit.

 

“Jupiter?” Kalique’s lilting voice sounds to Jupe’s right, and Jupiter turns, her heart leaping against her ribcage. Kalique is young and beautiful today, her dark hair hanging in perfect ringlets around her face. “Jupiter!” Kalique says, a smile lighting her face. “It really is you! By the stars, we all thought you dead…”

 

Jupiter waves a hand impatiently. “I’d say it’s great to see you, but honestly I don’t have the time,” she says. “Kalique, they’re auctioning off the Earth as we speak. I can’t let Balem get it - I can’t. I need you to stop the auction before it ends.”

 

Kalique raises both eyebrows. “Stop the auction?” she repeats. “Jupiter, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it’s quite impossible. The Abrasax family has a great deal of power, and our reach extends into many places… but to stop an auction mid-bidding? I don’t think - ”

 

Jupiter tries to step closer, smacking into the table in the tiny room. “God dammit,” she growls, walking backwards instead. “Kalique, please. If anyone can do something to stop this, it’s you. I’m begging you!”

 

Kalique tilts her head, a delicate frown curving her lips. “You do realize that you will have to go in person to prove you are who you say you are?” Kalique says. “There will be genetic testing, affidavits from your associates…”

 

Jupiter waves a hand. “It’s fine,” she says. “It’s all fine. Whatever it takes.”

 

Kalique clears her throat. “Balem will be called,” she says.

 

Jupiter’s heart plummets into her stomach. Oh god.

 

“He is the person who knows you best,” Kalique continues, her voice gentle. “It is only logical for him to examine you, to determine whether or not you are in fact the real Jupiter Jones. And when he does - Jupiter… you cannot imagine, after all this time, that he would even consider letting you leave a free woman.”

 

Jupiter shifts anxiously, biting her lip. The clock is ticking, and she knows she doesn’t have much time. “Can’t you give me some kind of protection?” she asks. “Sanctuary, or something?”

 

Kalique stares, long enough that Jupiter begins to worry she’s said something wrong. “What?” Jupiter asks.

 

Kalique parts her lips as if to say something - then pauses, releasing a breath. “What did he do to you?” she asks, her voice soft with worry. “What was it that made you run?”

 

Jupiter flinches. Nothing that matters anymore. Not after what happened three years ago. “It’s not your business,” she says instead. “Just… just promise me some protection, and call the auction house. Just… please make them stop.”

 

Kalique lowers her hand, glancing to her left. Maledictes is standing there behind her, eyebrows raised. “Shall I make the call, my lady?” he asks.

 

Kalique is still for a beat longer than Jupiter would like; but finally, she nods. “Yes,” she says. “Yes, please do. I will be with you momentarily to confer with the owner.”

 

Jupiter sags, relief sweeping through her. “Thank you,” she says. “I promise you won’t regret this - ”

 

Kalique smiles warmly. “I have no doubt of it, Jupiter,” she says. “But if we are to do this right, I’m afraid you must tell me where you are. I will need to send a ship to collect you at once.”

 

Jupiter smiles shakily and nods. “Right - sure,” she says. “I’m on Tartaros. There’s a clipper called Kharon - it’s in the city of Erebos. I’ll just get my stuff and wait for you on the city edge, I guess.”

 

Kalique blinks at the long string of names, taken aback. She must recognize them for what they are: infamous smuggler hideouts, dirty and dangerous places overrun with all the lowlives of the universe. “Oh, Jupiter,” she says, her eyes pitying. “You have found yourself in quite a mess, haven’t you? You’re a long way from home.”

 

Jupiter gives a short bark of laughter. “Don’t I know it,” she says. She pauses, fiddling with her hair. “So… how long until you get here?”

 

Kalique smiles. “Not long,” she promises. “We’ll see you very soon. Just stay put, and we’ll be along to collect you.” She glances over her shoulder, then back to Jupiter. “I’d best go,” she says. “They’ll want to speak to me. Stay safe. You’ll soon have your Earth protected.”

 

Jupiter nods, releasing a long breath. “Thank you, Kalique,” she says. “I won’t forget this.”

 

Kalique merely smiles, then terminates the call. The beautiful palace fades away into smooth black walls, and silence envelopes Jupiter.

 

Jupiter grabs for the chair and sits unsteadily, rubbing her temples. God, I hope that was the right decision. Please let that have been the right decision.

 

She thinks of Balem and his silvery hair, and the barely controlled madness in the depths of his eyes, and prays to whatever deity she can think of that he won’t tear her apart the moment he sees her.

 

* * *

 

Wisely, the Abrasax shuttle flies in with its invisibility shields up. The city of Erebos remains blissfully unaware of their enemies, business continuing as usual. Only Jupiter knows of their arrival - quite a bit longer than she’d anticipated them taking to reach her. She’s paced a trench into the dirt outside of Erebos and bitten at least six of her fingernails down to the quick as she waits.

 

When the shimmering transporter beam appears in front of her, she breathes a sigh of relief.

 

Despite her hard work over the years, Jupiter doesn’t have much that belongs to her - not even her ship is her own. She has a few bags with articles of clothing, some jewelry that was given to her as a show of gratitude, and a few figurines and trinkets that remind her of places she’s visited over the years.

 

She arrives on Kalique’s clipper with these few worldly possessions, looking dusty and exhausted. Kalique’s servants - all glowing with health and vitality - flinch back from her as if she is diseased. Jupiter forces a smile and a small salute. “Kalique?” she asks.

 

“Straight down the corridor and to the left,” says a female simbot. “We would be more than happy to show you to a room where you might bathe and change - ”

 

“Sorry, no time,” Jupiter says, brushing past the sim. “Maybe later. Thank you, though.”

 

“At least let us take your things,” a human servant says, stepping forward to block Jupiter’s path.

 

This at least Jupe can concede to. She hands over her bags and watches as the servant takes them away, turning down a hallway to the right. Jupe squares her shoulders and turns back, heading in Kalique’s direction. The sim follows closely behind her, ushering her into a large, softly lit chamber where Kalique sits with Maledictes, waiting for Jupiter.

 

The first thing Jupiter notices is that Kalique looks tense. Her smile is not entirely genuine when Jupiter enters the room, and Maledictes is look a bit ruffled in the feather department.

 

Jupe raises an eyebrow. “Everything go ok?” she asks.

 

Kalique’s smile stretches, thinner and even more pained. “Maledictes is in the process of hashing out the details,” she says. “Bureaucracy can be so very frustrating, even for the highest of us.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Jupe says, dropping into a chair. She runs a hand over her eyes. “But the auction was stopped?”

 

Kalique reaches out across the table to touch Jupiter’s hand. “Everything is going to be fine,” she promises. “If all goes according to plan, we’ll be meeting with a representative to confirm the authenticity of your claim shortly. Your genetics will be tested and some affidavits will be signed. All a matter of routine, really.”

 

Jupe nods, looking around the room. “Huh,” she says aloud.

 

Kalique frowns. “Something the matter?”

 

Jupe shakes her head, still staring at the fixtures. “No,” she says. “I just… I’d forgotten what it was like. Being surrounded by all this. Beautiful people everywhere, fancy clothes, nice things. It’s… It’s like waking up from a nightmare, or - or falling back into a dream.”

 

Kalique’s eyes are warm. She rises and comes to sit next to Jupiter, taking her hand. “You must have been through some terrible things these past few years,” she says.

 

Jupe swallows, fighting back tears. She knows she shouldn’t be open with any Abrasax - but as Kalique has always been kind to her, and is now offering Jupiter the means to her salvation… “I got sick,” she says. “Three years ago. Some bug. Fatal on most planets. I thought about calling Balem when it got bad - I really did. But I couldn’t…” She pauses, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. “I didn’t want to admit what I needed him for,” she says.

 

Kalique squeezes her hand tightly. “Your discomfort with RegenX-E is very admirable,” she says. “But to die because of it…”

 

Jupiter’s laugh is hollow. “I managed to get my hands on some that wasn’t set to be cargo,” she says. “And I hated myself, but I used it. I used it, and now I’m fine.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “Kind of negates the whole point of me running, though.”

 

Kalique waits, smoothing her thumb over Jupiter’s knuckles. Jupiter is struck by how filthy her skin is, how cracked and gruesome compared to Kalique’s. Envy and guilt knot in her stomach, and she looks away, pushing her vanity aside.

 

“You ran… because of RegenX-E?” Kalique prompts.

 

Jupiter hangs her head, smiling bitterly. “Yeah,” she says. “Balem kind of dumped me into a bath without asking.”

 

“Oh.” It is apparent from Kalique’s tone that she is neither surprised nor particularly affronted by the notion. “I had thought… well.” She does not finish the thought. “It was not fair of him to do so against your wishes,” she says. “But I am sure he only did what he thought he must to keep you safe.”

 

“Well, ignoring my directly expressed wishes was not a point in his favor, regardless of intent,” Jupiter says, pulling her hand out of Kalique’s. She rises and begins to pace, her skin itching. “How much longer do you think it will be before these representatives meet up with us?”

 

Kalique starts to reply, but Maledictes stops her before she can. “They are on their way even as we speak,” he says. “They have finally agreed to hear us out.”

 

The tension seeps away from Kalique in a rush. “Excellent news!” she says, also standing. “Then let them know we shall expect their arrival in the next few hours.”

 

Maledictes bows his head. “Of course, my lady,” he says. “As you command.”

 

Kalique turns to Jupiter, grabbing her hands. “Jupiter,” she says. “Perhaps you should take some time to rest. There is a bath in the guest room we’ve set up for you - RegenX-E-free, for now, unless you would like some, of course - ”

 

Jupiter’s heart leaps for a second. To be young and pretty, instead of a crusty, dirty patchwork quilt… But she angrily pushes the thought away and shakes her head. “No thanks,” she says. “A regular bath is fine.”

 

“As you wish.” Kalique gestures, and the sim servant seems to materialize from nowhere. “Please take Miss Jones to her guest chamber and see that she is made comfortable,” Kalique says. She smiles and squeezes Jupiter’s hands before releasing her. “It’s going to be fine,” she says. “I swear. You need not worry yourself over anything.”

 

Jupe gives her a small smile, suddenly exhausted, and trudges out after the sim, too tired to think of much. There will be a lot to do in the coming day, and Jupiter is grateful for the small respite.

 

At least she knows that Earth will be safe, all other consequences be damned.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Jupiter’s door chimes, and Kalique enters, dressed in a new and even more impressive gown. “Your honor guard has arrived to collect you,” she says, sailing over to Jupiter and pulling her to her feet.

 

“Honor guard?” Jupiter repeats, arching a brow. “That sounds awfully fancy for a routine bureaucratic meeting.”

 

Kalique laughs brightly. “It’s not every day a recurrence returns from the dead without having died first,” she says. “There are strictures in place, of course, but routine isn’t really the word for it. Suffice it to say, this occasion deserves a special delivery.”

 

Jupe isn’t sure she likes the sound of that - special delivery, like she’s a gift being offered up in a package. “Can I leave my stuff here?” she asks.

 

“If you like,” Kalique says. “The servants will take care of it.”

 

Jupe nods, but hesitates. “Hang on,” she says. “Just let me get one thing…”

 

She strides over to one of her smaller bags and digs through the pockets, finally pulling out a necklace made of sparkling clay beads. She slips it over her head and turns back to Kalique. “Ok, ready now,” she says.

 

Kalique raises an eyebrow. “What an… interesting piece of jewelry,” she says. “Wherever did you find it?”

 

Jupiter colors. “It was a gift,” she says. “From a kid whose dad I saved. She made it herself for me out of clay from around the camp. It’s… it’s kind of special.”

 

Kalique laughs and shakes her head. “You are terribly sentimental, Jupiter,” she says. “It’s really very endearing.” She holds out her hand, and Jupiter takes it, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. “Now let’s get you to your shuttle, shall we?” Kalique says, gently pulling her towards the door.

 

Jupiter follows after her, noting that Kalique is walking rather faster than she usually does. “I guess everyone’s a bit anxious to get this whole process over with, huh?” she says.

 

Kalique nods, guiding Jupiter around a corner. “Oh yes,” she says. “Everyone very much agrees that the sooner this is resolved, the better for all of us.”

 

Jupiter wishes it was over, too. She remembers dealing with bureaucrats all those long years ago. Even after all this time, she isn’t sure she’s ready for that. And after all of that is done, she’ doubtlessly have to confront Balem - and while she’s not looking forward to that prospect, if she can at least get it over with, everything will be fine…

 

She turns a corner and runs right into Kalique. “Oh!” Jupe gasps, stepping away. “Sorry, Kalique - I didn’t realize you’d - ”

 

Kalique hardly seems to notice. She does not even look to Jupiter as she speaks. “As you can see, it’s really her,” she says aloud, seemingly to no one.

 

Jupe glances to the end of the hall, eyes narrowing. “Who are you - ?”

 

Mr. Night steps out from the shadows, a small geneprint gun in his hand. “I think we shall be the judge of that,” he says. He looks to Jupiter and smiles, inclining his head in a mockery of politeness. “Good evening, Miss Jones,” he says.

 

Jupe swallows, panic flooding every vein. “Kalique…?” she says, her voice shaking.

 

Kalique turns to her and sighs, taking hold of her arm. “I am terribly sorry, Jupiter,” she says. “I do so hope we will be friends despite this unfortunate mess.”

 

Jupiter turns, her eyes wide and angry. “Friends?” she repeats incredulously. “Friends? You told me - you promised - OW!”

 

Mr. Night steps out from behind her, holding the gun aloft. The clear tube at its center glows a brilliant blue, lighting the dim hall. “Gene print confirmed, my lord,” Night says. “Lady Kalique is indeed telling you the truth.”

 

In the shadows at the end of the corridor, someone moves. Jupiter freezes, her heart pounding against her ribs. She knows that silhouette, would know it anywhere. “Balem?” she whispers, her voice choked and angry.

 

He steps forward, out into the light. His eyes glitter wetly even in the dimness of the corridor, alight with some madness all their own. “Jupiter,” he breathes; and Jupiter shivers at the sound, taking a step back from him.

 

Kalique gives her a pitying smile, tightening her grip. “It isn’t personal, Jupiter,” she says. “It’s only business. Truly, I am sorrier than I can say - but you will forgive a sister for indulging her own brother, won’t you?”

 

Jupiter makes a sound, a choked sob from somewhere deep in her chest. She should have known that this was how it would end - that an Abrasax only ever places their trust in themselves.

 

God, how could she have been so stupid?

 

She looks back towards Balem, still frozen like a statue. Even at this distance, she can see that his hands are shaking, his breath coming in short, unsteady rasps. He takes a step towards her; stops. Lifts a hand as if to touch her; stops.

 

Jupiter looks him in the eye and considers him warily. She dredges up the memory of the RegenX-E bath - but it has been a long, long time since that memory incited the necessary wrath in her. Now she only feels weary. Time and distance and her growing dependence on RegenX-E has changed her. She feels a swell of sickened anger - not with Balem, but with herself. This universe is corrupting her bit by bit. She is drowning, and there is no one left to save her.

 

“What do you get out of this?” Jupiter asks, her voice low with fury.

 

Kalique smiles. “Earth, of course,” she says. “The auction was over well before I could have stopped it. Balem is apparently willing to trade prime property for you. You should be flattered.”

 

Jupiter clenches her fist. “Yeah, really swoon-worthy,” she says. “I’ll consider being honored when I don’t want to punch every person in this room in the face.”

 

Kalique has the nerve to look wounded. “Jupiter, really,” she says. “In time, you’ll forgive this. Just as I’m certain you’ll forgive Balem for merely trying to save your life.”

 

Jupiter closes her eyes. “Don’t use my words against me,” she hisses, yanking her arm out of Kalique’s grip. Chicanery steps closer, a warning not to run - as if Jupiter would even try at this point. Where would she go? She is aboard Kalique’s ship, somewhere in the middle of space. She will be apprehended by servants or pursued by Balem’s ship. The time to fight is long over.

 

Kalique reaches out and touches a patch of smooth skin on Jupiter’s arm. “I don’t need to use them against you,” she says. “You have confessed yourself that your anger is baseless. You have used RegenX-E to save your life many times now, haven’t you?”

 

“I was trying to survive,” Jupiter snaps - but the words ring hollow to her.

 

“So are we,” Kalique says. “I hope you will remember that, when your anger gets the better of you.”

 

She lays her hand on Jupiter’s lower back and begins to walk, gently pushing Jupiter towards Balem. Mr. Night takes her arm on the opposite side, his grip as firm as iron.

 

They drag her until she is standing directly in front of Balem. They release her and step back a few paces, giving the pair space. Jupe closes her eyes tightly, staring at the floor. “Go ahead,” she says. “I know you want to do it.”

 

There is a lengthy silence, Balem’s fingers flexing at his sides. His hands are shaking, every inch of him quivering with barely restrained anger. She looks up and into his face, examining him with clinical indifference. He is full of violence threatening to spill over, in one form or another.

 

Jupiter knows that feeling. She’s on the verge of violence herself.

 

“Go ahead,” she says again, her voice urgent and low. “Hit me. You’ll feel better after.”

 

He exhales sharply, gives an angry shout, and slaps her hard across the face. Jupiter’s head snaps to the right, her cheek stinging painfully. The pain wakes something in her, an animal need to vent her rage; so she turns at once and slaps him in return, leaving a bright red handprint across his freckled cheek.

 

“Oh!” Kalique gasps, somewhere behind them - as if she has never seen this kind of violence before, as if she’s never enacted it on anyone herself. Jupiter would laugh if she wasn’t so angry.

 

“Better?” she says, as Balem reaches up to touch his burning cheek.

 

He pulls his hand away, checking it for blood. “It will suffice,” he rasps. He blinks slowly, some of the color seeping out of his face. He looks her over with a lazy, inquisitive air, and gives the tiniest of smiles. “Life on the run has not been kind to you, my Jupiter.”

 

She purses her lips. “Says you, with your gray hair and wrinkles,” she says. “RegenX-E a little tough on the morale palate these days?”

 

He tilts his head, his gaze sweeping lower. “I have other priorities to attend to.”

 

“Oh, well.” Jupiter folds her arms over her chest, rubbing her stinging cheek against her shoulder. “I’m glad to hear some things don’t change.”

 

“Very few things do, it seems,” he says. He looks up and into her eyes, suddenly and without warning. “You should have called me when you knew that you were ill.”

 

Jupe shrugs. “I wasn’t ready,” she says. “But then, you don’t much care about my readiness, do you?”

 

He ignores the quip, lifting her arm to examine the peculiar patchwork of her skin. “That product is inferior quality,” he says, turning her arm over and running a cold finger over a recently healed patch. “You’ll require a more pure batch to even out the skin tone entirely.” He pauses. “That is, if you are ready for it.”

 

Jupiter sense the mockery in his tone, but she’ll take what she can get right now. “Thanks, I guess,” she says. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to push or anything.”

 

He lifts his hand again, and Jupiter flinches, ready for another slap - but he merely lays his fingers against her cheek, cupping her face in his palm. “Jupiter...” he breathes, leaning in towards her.

 

Somewhere behind Jupiter, Kalique clears her throat. “Balem?” she says, her voice sweet and soft as down. “My deed?”

 

Balem glances sharply towards her, his fingers tightening against Jupiter’s face. He lifts a hand, and for the first time Jupiter notices that he is holding a signed affidavit - a transfer of ownership. Her eyes follow it as he hands it over to his sister.

 

''Thank you,'' Kalique replies, taking the tablet from him. ''A pleasure as always.''

 

Balem stares after the deed with a longing so painful it almost hurts Jupiter to see it. But then he returns his gaze to her, and the need in his expression increases tenfold. “Home, Jupiter?” he says, smoothing his hand over her neck.

 

Jupiter shrugs, stepping out of his grip. ''Seems I've got nowhere better to be,'' she says. She pauses and turns, looking Kalique dead in the eye. “I won’t forget this,” she says flatly. She nods to the affidavit in Kalique’s hand. “And I’ll be taking that back. One way or another, you won’t have Earth for long.”

 

Kalique smiles, laughing indulgently. “Oh, Jupiter,” she says. “You really are just like her. May it bring you to a better end than it did her.”

 

Jupiter is very careful not to look at Balem. “I’ve got my suspicions that things’ll work out alright.”

 

Kalique shakes her head and turns away, sailing down the corridor as if she hasn’t a care in the world.

 

When she is gone, Jupiter turns on her heel and marches past Balem. He follows at her heels, Mr. Night running awkwardly behind them to catch up. “Miss Jones,” Night says, “The shuttle is up this corridor and to the right, if you will…”

 

Jupiter waves him off, storming ahead. She stops suddenly and whirls, Balem nearly running into her. “When we get on that ship,” she says, “I am going straight to bed. All I want right now is to sleep and pretend this didn’t happen. Fair?”

 

Balem considers for a moment, then blinks slowly. It is his only signal that he agrees, but it is enough for Jupiter. She turns away and hurries towards the shuttle entrance, hoping only to sleep.

 

Maybe if she sleeps, she’ll wake to find this is a dream, and none of it ever happened.

 

* * *

 

Jupiter awakens that night to find herself being lowered onto the bed in her guest room, the grav field gently settling her upon the cushions.

 

“Mmm,” she mumbles, frowning. “Nooo…”

 

Jupiter groans and rubs her eyes, rolling over onto her side. She is unsurprised to find Balem kneeling beside her, staring at her unblinking. “Ok,” she mutters. ''That's creepy, Balem.''

 

He stays where he is, still never blinking. He reaches out and touches her cheek with trembling fingers. ''You're here,'' he croons, stroking a strand of her hair.

 

Jupiter rubs her eyes again, propping herself up on her elbow. “Yup,” she agrees, rather petulantly. “And asleep. Very… very asleep.”

 

There is a lengthy pause, during which Balem continues to stare at her expectantly. Jupiter sighs and rolls onto her side, patting the bed. “Fine,” she grumbles. “Come here.”

 

He is behind her in moments, his arms locked tightly around her waist. He hides his face against her hair and exhales slowly, contentment radiating from every pore.

 

“Ok,” Jupiter says, patting his arm. “Alright, fine. Go to sleep.”

 

He kisses the back of her neck. “As you wish.”

 

Jupiter closes her eyes, relaxing into his warmth. Like this, she can almost imagine that she is safe with him - that he is not as dangerous as all in the universe would have her believe. There is power in the notion that Balem is weak for her - weak enough to trade his greatest and most expensive asset for her. It is this Jupiter takes comfort in as she begins to drift off once more.

 

She is almost asleep when he presses his mouth to her ear, soft but tender. “If you ever so much as think of leaving again,” he whispers, “I will destroy everything you have ever held dear - your planet, your friends at the Aegis, the refugees you saved… everything. Do you understand, my Jupiter?”

 

Jupiter’s eyes snap open, the dreamy fantasy she’d harbored popping like a balloon. “You try that shit and I will personally light you on fire and burn your empire to the ground,” she says without moving. “Do you understand?”

 

He smiles against her throat. “You are a true Abrasax,” he murmurs. “None could ever doubt it.”

 

Jupiter lies very still, a cold chill running through her. “I’m a Jones,” she says, as if saying the words aloud will somehow make them true.

 

He tightens his grip upon her possessively, pressing warm lips to the curve of her jaw. “Ah, Jupiter,” he says. “Not anymore.”

 

 


End file.
